


You (Crafty) Bastard

by DivinusQualia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Adorkable, Baking, Cleaning, Crafts, Cute, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Stereotypes, Stiles is a little woman, True Love, needlepoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivinusQualia/pseuds/DivinusQualia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles used to watch his mother do needlepoint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You (Crafty) Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this post: http://blacktofade.tumblr.com/post/46257980285/swingsetindecember-i-want-stiles-to-give-derek

While Stiles hates the questions about gay relationships, he gets that he isn't really helping other gay couples.

He _loves_ to be the girl, hell with Derek _how_ is he supposed to be the man? And it shows. Derek's always sweaty, wife-beater wearing, covered in car oil and grease, leaves his muddy boots on the goddamn floor that Stiles _just_ cleaned and-  
"Dude! Seriously?" Derek wipes his dirty hands on his jeans and heads for the kitchen table. A plate of soft chocolate chip cookies that Stiles just baked lay cooling, and he snags one.  
"What?" Stiles makes a choked sound and motioned towards Derek's shoes. Derek blushes. "Sorry." He takes his cookie and moves to set the boots just outside the door. "Better?" Stiles squawks.  
"Better?! The floor is already dirty and... You've contaminated my cookies! You didn't wash your hands!" Derek shrugs.  
"it's good for your immune system." Stiles throws his hands in the air.  
"NO. Fuck you." Derek resists the urge to laugh at Stiles' overly dramatic rage and instead pulls him closer.  
"I'm sorry, Stiles." He noses along the younger boy's neck in a way that makes them both shiver, and settles for dropping a light kiss on the third mole down past his jaw. Then, because Derek knows he's an ass, he "accidentally" touchs Stiles' chest. With his grimy hand. Stiles shoot away from him and splutters.  
"You... you..." Derek grins and finishes his cookie.  
"Crafty bastard?" Stiles' eye twitches.  
"Get out, you fucker." Derek shrugs and heads to the door.  
"Your Jeep is going to be fine by the way." He ducks to narrowly avoid being hit in the head with a flying sponge. He winks at Stiles as he pulls his boots on. "C'mon baby, don't be like that." Stiles glares and Derek quickly removes himself from the house.

ANYWAYS, like Stiles was saying he loves to be Derek's.

Even if he has to put up with this sort of _positively neanderthalic shit_ every single day of his life. And he must say Derek can pull it off, it's the whole muscular thing if you ask him. Stiles heaves a sigh and looks down at the greasy oil handprint in the middle of his chest, he knows way too much about getting stains out of favorite shirts but by now he only blames himself. _Never trust a friendly Derek._    
Stiles yanks his t-shirt over his head and takes it to the sink to soak out with dish detergent. Out the window, Derek is leaning over his baby blue Jeep, still getting oil every where, and Stiles rubs a little too viciously at his shirt. When he looks back up, Derek waves at him. Stiles happily gives him the finger and resolves to deal with this shit later. He grabs a cookie before he leaves the kitchen, he's so mad he's hot, and _whoa_ , Stiles needs to calm down.  
He pulls a green lantern shirt out of the dresser and goes in search of his needles. They're never where they're supposed to be, and Stiles finally finds them in the wickerbasket he'd wrapped with yarn for all of Derek's hair products in the bathroom-because as hot as he is, _no one's_ hair looks that perfect wthout help. And lots of it. His threads are under the bed, with the little wooden hoop and he pulls them out. Stiles takes his supplies to the living room, he can still see Derek working on the Jeep through the window and he sets the open weave canvas into the hoop and starts to work...

Stiles' mother used to do needlepoint all the time.

She'd pull him and his grabby little hands away from the needles and instead set him down to play with a roll of yarn. She had an old wicker rocking chair in the corner of the living room with a big basket of craft stuff. She'd hum while she works and Stiles knew he would occassionally fall asleep wrapped in yarn. It was his childhood, yarn and humming and being carefully introduced to needles. Before he was ever medicated for his ADHD, Eviana Stilinski would set him on her knee and guide his fingers. Stiles would watch in awe as a picture came out of thin air from under his fingers and Evi would laugh and hug him.  
Stiles hates to admit it, but all he can remeber of her anymore is her smile. It would press against his cheek and she would smell of fresh baked sweets and honey with lilac.  
_"Genim, would you like a cookie?"_  
And Stiles would eagerly follow his mother for a super chocolate chunk cookies to the ends of the Earth. The needlepoint got shoved aside when the doctors made her live in a washed out, white hospital room, when Stiles decided to grow up and be a man.  
Except he wasn't a man, he was 7, and he would hold Evi's hand and cry. She asked for her needles as soon as she felt stronger, and the basket of craft stuff relocated itelf to her hospital room. Stiles would get picked up by Melissa McCall and dropped at the hospital everyday, and everyday he and his mother created something. Scott was less interested in needlepoint, but he loved Evi and although he won't admit it, Stiles knows he can needle with the best of them. 

Eviana's hospital room was quickly filled with projects. Sweet saying and intricate designs.  
_"Genim! Scott! My room is too full. Let's make things for the other patients."_  
And so the trio would sit for hours until Melissa's shift ended or John Stilinski took them home. They made big designs and small designs, religious saying and jokes-some were crooked, some where just plain bad. But all Stiles could truly remember was the smiles on peoples faces. People Stiles had never seen before, people he will never meet again, people who were healed and went home, people who died. They all smiled when Scott and Stiles handed them their needlepoint. Evi would hug them both, and while the hugs weren't as tight as they used to be, they were still hugs. _"_  
Genim, the little things don't matter. The big things do. Cancer, it's a little thing, that's why it picks on people. But love. Love encompasses the world. And I love you Genim. And Daddy."  
Stiles wanted to know what encompassing meant. He half smiles at the memory and the door slams. He jumps and remembers he's angry.  
"Jesus, Derek, remember to take your shoes off!" There's the sound of running and the door slams again.  
"I left them outside!" Stiles goans and Derek comes into the living room. "What are you doing?" Stiles lifts his work-he's been absentmindedly creating a bluebird in flight-and Derek bites his lip. "You're really mad at me, aren't you?" Stiles raises an eyebrow, then decides he's too mature-and talkative-to keep it up.  
"Yes. I am. And you know why." Derek shrugs.  
"It's just the floor..." Stiles glares at him, and against Derek's instincts, he moves forward. 'I'm sorry. Okay? I'll mop up my boot prints, but I have to get something for your Jeep in town. I'll be back soon?" Stiles makes a noise of agreement and Derek lowers himself to hang over Stiles, their lips inches from each other. "I love you." Stiles rolls his eyes before he begrudgingly replies.  
"Love you too." Derek grins and kisses him.

After Derek cleans the floor-and gets an okay from Stiles because _Christ, Derek, you can't mop and leave gross muddy spots all over the floor_ -he leaves in his Camero and Stiles returns to his flying bluebird. He's finishing a wingtip, and Derek won't be back for another hour... Stiles looks at the bluebird and shrugs.  
"Sorry, blue. I'll finish you later." He drops the wooden hoop by his bag of threads and finds a new one. It's smaller, but Stiles doesn't need a lot of room anyways.

Letters have always been hard, Stiles knows how to cross-stitch and it's the easiest part of needlepoint, but it's his worst skill. The letters come out anorexic or swiggly, and he always swears and pulls the stiches out. This happens _twice_ before he has it just the way he wants it, and he decided-with a smirk-to add 2 little hearts to either side of his message. He pulls a scrap of red fabric out of his yarn bag, and yanks his sewing machine out of a cupboard.  
He makes a tiny pillowcase that can hold his message. He's stitched it to the red and has filled it with cotton fluff, and just as he's finishing the closing stitch, he hears the rumble of the Camero. The door slams behind Derek when he enters, he's actually remembered to leave his boots outside, and he sets the engine part by the door after a moments consideration (Stiles probably _would not_ appriciate it on the kitchen table).  
"Stiles! I have the part." Stiles smiles once more at his gift and rushes into the kitchen.  
"Great! Just one minute, before you finish my car..." He presents the little decorative pillow with a flourish and Derek does a doubletake.  
"Should something that vulgar be displayed with an old lady craft?" Stiles scowls and Derek beats a hasty retreat. "I mean, wow. It's so... original." Derek reads, and rereads  the little pillow and finds himself grinning from ear to ear. "How attached are you to driving to work tomorrow?" Stiles shrugs.  
"Well, I was hoping... Why?" Derek's eyes flash with lust and he pulls Stiles closer to him and growls.  
"Because I want to do something you find so _awesome_." Stiles blushes as Derek forcibly carries him from the room.  
"So you don't mind giving me a lift to work?" Derek kicks their bedroom door open and Stiles swoons-he would faint but that would send this sex train off the tracks.  
"I don't mind at all."

Yeah, Stiles _loves_ being the girl. 

~~Almost as much as Derek loves being his man.~~

 

**Author's Note:**

> swoon~ >.


End file.
